


soothe me

by ikknowplaces



Series: the Quiet Isle [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Canon Compliant, Caretaking, F/M, Fluff, Healing, Mutual Pining, One Shot, Post-Canon, Sharing a Bed, and her taking care of him in return, jaime taking care of brienne's injuries after stoneheart, post-adwd, very soft, when will winds come out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 22:21:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20785991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikknowplaces/pseuds/ikknowplaces
Summary: Jaime and Brienne taking care of each other after Lady Stoneheart and the Brotherhood in the Quiet Isle. Wrote this instead of sleeping.





	soothe me

**Author's Note:**

> this scene, this little drabble has been stuck in my mind for weeks. i wanted to take a little break from working on [promises](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20506850/chapters/48666539), it's late in night (almost midnight) and i went- hey, why don't i write it? so, here it is. the title is taken from jackie and wilson by hozier, a very good song for jaime and brienne
> 
> if he doesn't take care of her wounds after stoneheart i'm throwing hands with grrm
> 
> enjoy the fluff!

The fire cracking in the hearth is the only sound inside the chamber, protecting them from the harsh winter winds. It paints the old walls in faded orange light and Brienne closes her eyes to feel the warmness against her skin, the hot waves reaching beneath her tunic to her healing bones.

It has been seven days since Jaime had brought her to the Quiet Isle, though now that winter was at their doors it was difficult to tell between day and night. The snow was piling more and more each day, she could tell from the way Jaime curses every time he tries to get inside her bedchamber.

She had been half-dead when they came riding to the Isle. Her broken arm ached, her bitten cheek numb and infected, her head stinging like knives. Her broken ribs were almost as bad as her cheeks. For Jaime, she remembers. She had broken them defending Jaime from the Brotherhood, from Lady Stoneheart, whom she drove Oathkeeper into.

After the first day, when the Brothers set her arm, cleaned her cheek with boiling wine and pushed snow against her ribs. At first, they tried to keep Jaime away from her room, since they were unwed. She tried as well, but Jaime reminded her that she had seen him with his own hand rotting around his neck, seen him burning with fever and covered in his own soil, so nothing could keep her away from him.

"Stay still," he dips the cloth in the bowl of water before bringing it to her cheek, holding her chin with his golden hand.

She feels her face warming up to his touch. _Stupid._ She shuts her eyes harder as he presses the cloth, water running on her ruined flesh.

She opens her eyes, staring at the remains of their dinner, two empty bowls of thick soup and pieces of bread on the wooden tray. It's another thing Jaime insisted on when they arrived, that he shall dine with her until she heals, to see if she's healing at all.

"How bad is it?" She asks. There is no looking-glass in her chamber, and she doesn't know whether to be grateful for it or not. Looking-glasses were never good for her, anyway, not since her Septa opened her eyes.

"It's healing," he answers, his voice so low and close to her. She knows the real answer, though. Horrifying. Making the beast even uglier.

She doesn't argue. Jaime smears the paste the Brothers brought her, white cream with a tint of green that smells like the forest after the rain. His fingers trace the pit of her torn cheek, so gently, and she clutches the fur blankets.

If Jaime notices, he doesn't say anything. He moves on to the flask of oil and rubs it against the spot where Biter ripped off a handful of her hair. She sighs at that. The oil is thick and sweet-smelling, and it drips to the side of her face and down her ear.

Her gaze drops to his golden hand, still in his lap. She saw it for the first time in Pennytree, inside his tent, as he stood in his beautiful white armor. It was no surprise for her that this was what he chose, Lannister gold fingers and pearl nails.

"Does it hurt?" she asks and his hand drops from her hair.

The Jaime she knew in Riverrun would have replied her question with a jape, or an insult for her. That's not entirely true, she supposes. The Jaime she met in Riverrun still had his right hand. This Jaime, the Jaime she killed Stoneheart for, knows better.

"Sometimes," he answers, green eyes shining in the firelight, his curls falling on his forehead. She remembers a moment in the bathhouse of Harrenhall, when they were this close before. She washed him and shaved his beard and dressed him after.

She takes his golden hand with both of her hands now, fingers caressing the cold metal as if it has life. She studies every detail, every twist embroidered into it, before locking her eyes on Jaime, waiting for him to protest.

When he doesn't, she reaches out for the straps that hold his hand to his wrist, and loosens them until she can pull his solid hand free.

His stump is no new to her, but it brings the memory of Zollo bringing down his sword on Jaime, the sound of his scream, the sound of sapphires as she was bound to a tree.

She spills some of the oil and palms his stump, feeling the severed bone and the scar tissue, and now Jaime's eyes are wide open, his jaw parted. She squeezes along his wrist and further up his forearm, spreading the oil on his tense muscles, her freckled fingers on his rough skin.

She never touched him before, his stump even less, never initiated it. She almost touched Lady Catelyn's hand when she told her about her daughters, but she restrained herself, thinking her beautiful Lady wouldn't want a beast like herself to touch her. Jaime saved her from rape, came back for her and saved her from a bear, gave her Oathkeeper. She lied to him, yes, but she protected him all the same. He won't pull away from her in disgust, she knows.

When she's done, he takes his hand and crosses the bed, stepping to the door. "Goodnight, my lady," he bows.

"Wait," she shifts at the edge of the bed and he turns around. Her eyes dart around his face, carefully watching her, and the creaking floor. Rain has started to fall outside, light drops landing on the roof of the old cabin. She chews on her lips as the redness spreads across her cheeks again. "Will you- Could you stay with me tonight?"

_Fool, you're a fool._ It's a dangerous, risky move. The Brothers were kind enough to receive her again, to let Jaime enter her chamber, to give them shelter and food. Should one of them find out they slept together throughout the night, surely they will be banished.

Jaime lingers at the door for a moment, but he nods and she curls under the blankets as he removes his jerkin, a thin, woolen tunic underneath. She lies on her back, resting her broken arm on her stomach, like she has been doing since they arrived. He settles beside her quickly enough, after placing his hand on the table. She watches his chest rise and fall, his body relaxing until he is sound asleep, then closes her eyes too.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you!
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](https://ikknowplaces.tumblr.com)


End file.
